


take my memories, take my heart.

by cheshireanwriter



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:18:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireanwriter/pseuds/cheshireanwriter
Summary: Jinsoul takes memories for a living, Jungeun takes lives.





	1. of glass and moonlight.

Jinsoul hadn’t always been known as the Blue Betta.

 

To her friends, she was simply Jung Jinsoul. Nothing more, nothing less. To everyone else, however, she was a magician, a psychic, a powerful sorceress who had the ability to alter memories or erase them altogether. To everyone else, she was the infamous memory magician of Seoul, South Korea. The Blue Betta.

 

“How could you betray me like this? After everything I’ve done for you?”

 

Jinsoul sighed and took another sip of coffee, savoring the bitter aftertaste it left on her tongue. Black coffee was the best coffee, and nothing that anyone said would ever change her mind. Ever. “An indie cafe and the most renowned club in the country are two completely different things, Sooyoung. I hope you know that.”

 

The woman in question scoffed loudly. “Yeah, it is. And you chose a dinky little coffee shop in the corner of Nobody street over your best friend’s club. Didn’t I tell you I’d get you free drinks and a VIP room?” She pointed an accusatory finger at her. “The only time you ever came to Eden was on opening day, and I literally had to kidnap you to get you there.”

 

“And that’s exactly why I never go,” she said, shuddering internally at the memory.  “Also, free drinks don't equal good coffee, just like a VIP room doesn’t equal some peace and quiet for once in my life.”

 

“Yeah, yeah whatever, Grandma.” Sooyoung took the seat across from her, slapping her phone on the table. 

 

Ha Sooyoung had always been loud. From the moment Jinsoul had met her, she had known that she was someone who was born to be seen. She supposed that was why they were friends. Jinsoul preferred the shadows where she could be hidden, and in Sooyoung’s light, she could do exactly that while at the same time, the other woman could shine brighter because of it. It was a mutualistic relationship, whether Sooyoung realized it or not.

 

Jinsoul ignored the namecalling with a roll of her eyes. “How did you find me here, anyway? It’s not good for the two of us to be seen together, you know.”

 

Sooyoung smirked and leaned forward. “What? Because we’re ex-girlfriends?”

 

“We literally lasted four and a half days, Sooyoung. I wouldn’t call that a relationship.” Jinsoul crossed her legs and leaned back in her seat. “And no one knows about that. Unless you’ve been running your mouth lately,” she said, leveling Sooyoung with a pointed glare.

 

The club owner waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, chill out. I haven’t told anyone. I just think that Yves and the Blue Betta has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

 

Yves was the name that Sooyoung had adopted simultaneously with her idea for Eden. It was ingenious, really, and people had flocked to this sinful version of paradise like demons to Hell. The rumors of her powers had further fueled the hype that came with the club’s grand opening and that was when Yves was truly born. Blue Betta on the other hand, was something a bit more sentimental. A reminder. Her clients seemed to enjoy it, sentimentality or not, and many commented on how it suited the mystery around her. She was content with it. 

 

“We weren’t  _ Yves and the Blue Betta _ back then,” she said, tracing the grain of the table. “And I was talking about the fact that I erase people’s pasts and you tell people their future for a living. People might think that we're working together for profit, you know.”

 

“So? You can just erase their memory, no big deal.”

 

“Yes, because that’s exactly how it works.” Sooyoung only offered her a cheeky wink that Jinsoul brushed away with a bite of her pastry. “But really. Why are you here?”

 

The coffee shop really was something small and indie, and its only patrons at the moment were an old man sitting by the windows, and a teenage girl curled up in a corner by the bookshelves. Jinsoul loved the peace that an atmosphere like this brought. She loved being able to blend into the background instead of standing in the center of a spotlight, even if it was only for a short while. She was proud of Sooyoung, yes, but she couldn’t stand the energy of a club, especially not one of her size.

 

For once, Sooyoung’s expression shifted into something serious. “There’s been rumors going around lately.”

 

She shrugged, taking another sip of her coffee. It was beginning to go cold. “There’s always rumors. Especially in your club.”

 

“No,” Sooyoung said, shaking her head. “This is different. People are…they’re talking about a bounty.”

 

Shock pierced through her like a jolt of electricity. “A bounty? Here? On who?”

 

“That’s just it. No one’s really sure. Some people are saying it’s the White Dove, Haseul. Others are saying it’s the Grey Wolf, Olivia Hye.”

 

“What? Olivia Hye? Why would they want to kill her? She’s only a child.”

 

“Not to the Buried she’s not,” Sooyoung said, voice brittle. “If you’ve got magic, especially Death magic like hers, you’re a threat. It’s always been that way. But Soul…” She exhaled, and it almost sounded shaky. Sooyoung’s voice was never shaky. “Soul, they’re also saying—they’re also saying that it might be the Blue Betta. They’re saying it might be you.”

 

A heavy silence fell between them. Sooyoung was doing that thing where she tugged at the end of her hair when she was uncomfortable, and all Jinsoul could think about was that she wanted to alleviate that. She didn’t like seeing the woman anything but obnoxiously confident. So, she chuckled. “The bounty better be high. My net worth is in the hundred millions, you know.”

 

Sooyoung’s eyes widened and she slammed her hand on the table, though luckily, Jinsoul saw it coming and lifted her mug just in time. “I’m not joking, Jinsoul! You could die. Like, really badly die.”

 

The old man and the girl glanced in their direction, and Jinsoul shot them an apologetic smile that had them quickly looking away, then shot Sooyoung a warning glance. 

 

“Did you even hear me right?” she hissed.

 

Jinsoul shrugged. “I did. And if they decide to go through with it, I hope they’ll at least be creative.”

 

“What?” Sooyoung practically spluttered. “Creative? Are you serious right now? You might be being targeted by the  _ Buried  _ and you’re talking about giving them points for creativity?”

 

“Well, what do you want me to do? Cry?” Jinsoul finished the rest of her coffee, wincing slightly at how much it had cooled. “We knew what we were getting into when we decided to sell our magic, Sooyoung. Don’t tell me you didn’t expect it.”

 

“Yeah, but—”

 

“And like you said, anyone who can use magic is a threat to them. Even children. We’re not children and we definitely haven’t been subtle about our powers.”

 

Sooyoung frowned, though she didn’t look so tense anymore. “Still, you could at least be a little bit worried.”

 

“I am, but there’s no point in panicking.” Jinsoul looked down at her watch and stood. “Thanks for worrying about me, really. I’ll be more careful. But I have to go, I have work to do. The client is a bit complicated this time.”

 

Sooyoung perked up. “Oh? How much are you charging, then?”

 

“…Twelve thousand,” she said as she placed a five dollar bill beneath the coaster.

 

Sooyoung whistled. “Damn, that’s pretty pricey, even for you.”

 

“The client is in his mid-thirties and he wants to erase a memory from his childhood. You know the further I have to travel back, the more dangerous it is.” Sooyoung nodded. “Also, Heejin told him that he only has another forty or so years to live, but he said that he still wants to do it, so I’m guessing it really is something dangerous.”

 

“Must be one hell of a memory then, if he’s willing to give up, what, like half of his remaining life span?”

 

Jinsoul hummed in agreement, flicking her fingers through her hair. She glanced at her watch once more, then patted Sooyoung on the shoulder. “I have to go. I’ll see you around, Soo.”

 

“Not if you’re dead in a ditch somewhere,” she called out after her.

 

Jinsoul only laughed. 

 

***

 

Jinsoul’s penthouse lay on top of a twenty story building in the midst of one of Seoul’s busiest streets. The view was spectacular, and she was high enough above the city that the sounds of car horns and sirens sounded about as loud as a muffled notification from a phone. To think that just six years ago she had been living in the alleyways with not a single place to call home. 

 

Truth be told, it hadn’t exactly been a struggle to get where she was now. The struggle had lain mainly in the decision to either publicize her magic and put herself in the limelight or to stay hidden in the shadows, nothing but another poor, abandoned girl.

 

She swirled the remaining wine in her glass, looking out of the spotless floor-to-ceiling length windows. She had turned all of the lights off so that she could see the city lights better, twinkling gently below her. Sometimes she imagined them to be stars.

 

She didn’t regret her decision, even though it may have spurred the bounty on her head. Like she’d said before, she had expected it. After all, it would be hard to ignore a nobody who abruptly rose to fame and fortune practically overnight, particularly when that certain nobody turned out to be a powerful magician, one who could manipulate a person’s memories seemingly at will, though that wasn’t exactly the case. 

 

The only thing that she couldn’t help but wonder was why Sooyoung didn’t have any rumors about a bounty. The woman had left poverty along with her. They had both risen to the top at nearly the same time and Sooyoung’s ability to look into people’s futures and alter them was just as powerful as her own. Jinsoul had become the Blue Betta and Sooyoung had become Yves. So why was it that the rumored bounty wasn’t placed on her, too?

 

She sighed. Thinking too much was giving her a headache. She was out of wine, too. She padded to the kitchen to pour herself another glass. Just this one and then she’d sleep. She had a big day tomorrow, anyway. This client was quite clearly a desperate one and his story was something that Jinsoul knew would trigger many a sleepless night. She wasn’t looking forward to it, even if she was receiving twelve grand in the process.

 

She turned back to the view of the city, wine in hand, only to see something sailing towards her window. At first, it seemed formless, a shadow against the background of artificial lights, but just before it hit the window, just before the life as she had known it would change forever, she realized what it was. A person.

 

The window shattered with an earsplitting crack, and Jinsoul abandoned her wine and ducked behind the kitchen counter just as the glass shards began to fly. One hit the cupboard just beyond where she had been standing moments before, another hit the countertop opposite her, smashing into smaller fragments behind her. Frigid air rushed into the room and Jinsoul began to shiver. Whether it was from the cold or the shock, she didn’t know.

 

A grunt of pain and a thud of a body hitting the ground accompanied the sounds of glass scattering across the floor. The intruder groaned and she could hear the telltale sound of them struggling to stand. It wasn’t a moment later that she heard something else, the rustling of clothes and the sound of boots lightly hitting the ground. Someone else was here.

 

“I suggest you stay down.” The voice was quite obviously feminine, smooth and composed. There was a certain rigidity behind it, however, that told her that whoever it belonged to wasn’t to be messed with.

 

“Come to hunt the fish, did you?” This voice was far rougher and clearly belonged to a man. “You’re strong for a pretty little girl like you. I wouldn’t mind working togeth—” His words were cut off by a pained grunt.

 

“I work alone.”

 

“Why you little—”

 

Chaos commenced. Jinsoul winced as she heard the sound of ripping leather, and she knew that her couch was done for. Although, that probably should have been the last thing on her mind to be worried about. The bounty hunters were here. They were here, in her penthouse, fighting to win the honor of killing her. Fuck. She was actually going to die. She was actually going to be found dead in a ditch tomorrow morning. 

 

The sounds of fighting only became increasingly louder, and she closed her eyes, attempting to steady her heart. At least they wouldn’t be able to hear her hyperventilating. They were too busy trying to kill one another. As abruptly as everything had started, it stopped. She heard a dull thud and she imagined, this time, a body crumpling to the ground. Then, it was only the wind and the soft sound of labored breathing.

 

She couldn’t just sit here and wait to die. She had to at least see her murderer’s face. She had to at least try. Jinsoul took a deep breath, mustering the last bit of courage she had, and finally peeked around the corner. Her window was far beyond repair. She would have to get it replaced. How she was going to explain it, she hadn’t the slightest idea. As she’d expected, there was glass covering the floor of her living room, her couch, her coffee table. Well, at least she wouldn’t be alive to have to clean all of that up.

 

Then, her eyes fell on  _ her _ . It was a girl. She was standing, almost ethereal among all the wreckage. The moonlight filtered onto her form, shoulders visibly rising and falling to the rhythm of her breaths as she stared down at the lifeless body of a man at least twice her size, laying in a pool of his own blood. She was wearing a black bodysuit with what looked like veins of red glowing within the fabric, and her hair, straight and brown, was tied in a high ponytail. A strange knife that curved like a crescent moon and mirrored the color of one dripped blood in her hand.

 

“Blue Betta, you can come out now. I’m not here to hurt you.”

 

The girl said this without looking away from the body. Jinsoul clenched her fists. Did she really expect her to believe that? After everything? After she murdered a man the size of a gorilla in her living room? She stayed put. As if she was going to listen to her. If she died, she wasn’t going to die like an imbecile.

 

“Behind the counter, on the left.”

 

Jinsoul felt her limbs lock in place, her muscles so tense she thought they might snap if she so much as twitched. She swallowed, hard.  _ Fuck _ . There was no point in hiding now, and listening to the bounty hunter with the bloodstained knife seemed like the smarter choice, especially when the said bounty hunter knew exactly where she was. She slowly, painstakingly, stood up. Her legs refused to cooperate properly, and she grabbed onto the counter to stop herself from falling over and killing herself before the girl could even lay a hand on her.

 

The girl didn’t look at her right away. She continued to look down at the dead man on the ground silently. Then, just as slowly as Jinsoul had gotten up, the girl finally looked at her. Her eyes were cold, emotionless, and they lacked the heat and bloodlust that Jinsoul had thought she would see. But this. This was far, far more terrifying.

 

“You are the Blue Betta, the memory magician?”

 

Jinsoul swallowed again, willing her voice to work if nothing else. It did. Sort of.  “Yes,” she managed to rasp out.

 

The girl seemed to study her for a moment before she nodded almost imperceptibly. “I’m not here to kill you,” she said, and for some reason, Jinsoul believed her. She continued. “I just need you to erase my memory. All of it.”

 

Jinsoul felt a familiar flare of rebellion in the pit of her stomach. This girl had broken her window, destroyed her couch, and scared her within an inch of her life, and she wanted her to use her magic for her? Risk her life for her?

 

She bit back as much of the indignation as she could. “Why should I?”

 

The girl’s expression didn’t change. She continued to look at her calmly, steadily, as if she had all the time in the world. It made her words that much more chilling. “Because if you don’t,” she said, her eyes locking into her own, “you’ll lose any little chance you have of making it out of this alive.”

 

It sounded like a threat. It was, wasn’t it? But the way she said it…something about it struck her as more of a warning. But why? Why would a bounty hunter warn her? Of anything? Before Jinsoul could react, before she could so much as come up with a statement, a question, anything, the girl, amidst all the blood and glass and silver moonlight, fell to the floor, unconscious. 

 

Then, there was nothing but the wind.


	2. of jokes and death

There was a dead man in her living room, stabbed in the gut by a knife that belonged to the unconscious girl lying not too far from him. 

 

The girl was bleeding from her right shoulder, and the blood pooled beneath her body like stagnant water. Jinsoul had cautiously approached the carnage after a minute or two of standing, frozen, in unmitigated shock. She hadn’t been able to see the slickness of blood running down the girl’s dark suit, especially not when her life was being threatened, but now, it was clear that she had been stabbed, too. Simply not in a vital area. Well, not vital enough to kill her instantly, anyway.

 

Jinsoul brought her hands to her face and buried herself in them, breathing heavily. What in the world was she supposed to do right now? Get rid of the dead body? Save the girl? Wait, no, why would she save the girl? She was trying to kill her, wasn’t she? She was a bounty hunter, an assassin, someone who wanted her life for money. Right?

 

…No. No, she wasn’t. Jinsoul knew she wasn’t. If the girl’s intention really had been to kill her, Jinsoul would have been dead by now. The girl wouldn’t have even broken a sweat, as simple as flipping a page of an old book. She was sure of it. Besides, her words still rang in her ears, strange in the way it had been said, something in her tone.  _ Because if you don’t, you’ll lose any little chance you have of making it out of this alive. _ She still couldn’t shake it away. 

 

No, she had saved her if anything. The man, now dead on the ground, had without a doubt been intent on ending her life. He had said it himself. He’d asked the girl to join him. The girl had refused—in a way. 

 

Either way, the girl had saved her and Jinsoul had to return the favor. She slowly dragged her hands away from her face and took a deep breath. Her eyes darted first to the dead, though she looked away just as quickly, and stared down at the girl instead. Her breathing was labored, and Jinsoul could see the sweat shining on her forehead, brows furrowed in what clearly was pain. First things first. She had to patch her up.

 

Moving the girl to her bedroom wasn’t quite as difficult as she’d initially thought it would be. Despite the fact that she quite obviously had enough strength to take a six-foot tall man down, she was oddly light and noticeably small, and Jinsoul had no problem carrying her in her arms. Blood now stained the front of her t-shirt and the cartoonish dog that had designed it looked almost demonic now. She’d have to throw it away. 

 

The girl’s suit wasn’t glowing anymore, except for the place where the girl had been stabbed, which shone red in the shape of what the cut would look like. Jinsoul looked at it more closely and realized that the fabric had seemingly stitched itself back together. It even seemed to be constricting her arm, as if the suit was something alive, attempting to save the girl’s life. A loyal dog, maybe.

 

At least there wasn’t so much blood anymore. The suit had somehow staunched the flow, and the girl seemed to be breathing lighter, now, though Jinsoul wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She just hoped that it didn’t mean that she was about to die. 

 

Somewhere along the way, during her many years on the streets, she’d learned how to patch herself up. The streets had been dangerous, they still were, and there had been some nights that she’d had to stand up and throw a punch or two. Most nights, she’d simply run, and luckily, she’d always been a fast runner. She still had a scar across her knee from the time she hadn’t seen a crate in the way and had sunk her leg into the edge of it. Finding a needle and thread to sow it up had been hell, especially when she had to resort to hobbling around, but she’d managed it anyway. There had been a few other incidents after that, and she’d eventually become an expert at it. She’d had to.

 

Jinsoul shook herself out of her memories and focused on the task at hand. She had to figure out how to get the girl out of her suit, first. She couldn’t help her when the fabric was in the way, even if it did seem to be helping her somehow. She cautiously reached towards where the suit was still glowing red on her shoulder, wary in her movements, unsure. 

 

Then, abruptly, the world was spinning and Jinsoul found herself on her back, her breath caught in her chest, a hand pressed against her throat, the other pinned against her wrist, looking up into a pair of wild eyes, hazy and disoriented and scared. The look lasted a mere second, maybe even less, before the girl’s eyes cleared and the chilling impassiveness returned.

 

The girl’s voice sounded the same as her eyes looked. “What are you doing?”

 

Jinsoul was human, she couldn’t ignore the fact that the girl was undoubtedly pretty, all tousled hair and danger in her eyes, and she couldn’t help but be aware of the position they were in, the way that she could feel the girl’s thighs along her hips, the way that her fingers shifted around her throat. It was borderline erotic, but she knew that one wrong move and it was entirely plausible that she’d be left with a snapped neck. It probably wasn’t what she should be focusing on at the moment.

 

“I was just trying to help you,” she said. Her voice came out soft, careful. “You’re bleeding. Or, at least, you were.”

 

She watched the way that the girl’s brows furrowed, a light touch of confusion, and she felt the tension in the hands at her throat and wrist slacken. “Why?”

 

“I would guess that it’s because you were stabbed,” she said. She couldn’t help the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, though it quickly faded. “But if that’s not what you’re asking, then it’s because I owe you, whether that was your intention or not.”

 

The girl’s grip tightened around her wrist, but Jinsoul could tell that it wasn’t out of malice. She suddenly looked lost, like a child who’d been left behind. “I don’t understand.”

 

She said the words as if she were hesitant, slowly and almost clumsily, quite unlike the way that she’d gracefully managed to pin Jinsoul onto the bed, rendering her completely helpless in a heartbeat. 

 

“You saved my life, so I attempted to save yours,” Jinsoul said. She continued to search the girl’s eyes. “This world is all about giving and taking, and I don’t like being in debt.”

 

Silence settled for a moment. Then, “I could kill you.”

 

The girl’s words didn’t scare her as she knew it should have. “I know,” she said. She tilted her head. “Do you plan to?”

 

She knew the girl’s answer. She had said it before, and the girl didn’t look like the type to go back on her word, but Jinsoul wanted to hear it again when the mask of indifference was off—the mask of a cold-blooded killer. 

 

The girl’s expression wavered, and for the first time, she looked away. “No, I don’t.” 

 

She was released as quickly as she’d been trapped. Jinsoul blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then sat up to see the girl standing at the foot of her bed, her hand hovering over her injured shoulder.

 

“You should treat that.”

 

“I don’t have to.”

 

The fabric burned red again and Jinsoul watched in amazement as the suit began to recede, leaving an opening where the girl’s hand lingered. Her eyes widened at the sight of a wound almost healed, a raw, pink scar the only remnant against alabaster skin. When the girl pulled away, the suit materialized back into place, inanimate once more.

 

“What kind of—”

 

“—is the body still there?”

 

Jinsoul inhaled. The body, of course. She’d almost forgotten about it. She swung her legs off the bed and nodded. The girl turned without a word and left the room, her footsteps so light she could barely hear it, even in the near silence. She followed her. The girl crouched next to the man’s body, and Jinsoul watched as she reached out with steady fingers and placed her hand against his chest. Nothing happened for a moment, but she felt it in the air, something powerful, something compelling.

 

Then, she saw it. A gentle glow at first, and then a blinding flash of red that had her throwing her hands up to shield her eyes. When she opened them again, the body was gone. It was as if it had never been there, and the girl was standing, panting slightly, but otherwise unaffected. 

 

Jinsoul stared at where the body had been. “You have Death magic.”

 

The girl’s shoulders tensed. “I can only use it on the dead.” Her voice was stilted, almost staccato in the way that it jumped from one syllable to the next. Jinsoul caught the way that her hand trembled. “It can’t affect you.”

 

Death magic was rare, and the few who held its power were seen as cursed, murderers at best, Satan’s personal demons at worst. Those with Death magic were shunned and ostracized without mercy. It was clear that this girl had not been sheltered from those views, and Jinsoul’s heart softened. Vulnerability.

 

She hummed. “I’m not worried.”

 

The girl didn’t turn, though she lowered her head. “You should be.”

 

It was then that Jinsoul made up her mind. If she thought about it, she’d made it up long ago. This girl was someone to be cautious of, that was indisputable, but she wasn’t someone to be feared. Yes, she had the ability to kill her, perhaps even in less than a second, but she was certain now that she wouldn’t, not without a solid reason. The girl was a killer, but she wasn’t one without morals or a conscience. 

 

“Why? Because your magic has the word ‘death’ in it?” Jinsoul dared to approach her, albeit slowly. “Death itself isn’t evil, you know. In many ways, it’s far more merciful than life.”

 

The girl finally turned around, and Jinsoul saw a guarded look in her eyes, but also, a faint glimmer of hope, barely visible, but there all the same. “You’re strange.”

 

“Better strange than boring,” she said with a half-hearted shrug. She stood in front of the girl now, just a few feet apart. Standing so near, she almost smiled at the realization of their height difference. “Speaking of strange, I suppose Girl isn’t a normal thing to call someone. I’m not too creative with names, but I’m sure your real one is better.”

 

“My name?” Jinsoul raised her brows at the unexpectedly endearing awkwardness. It was as if no one had ever bothered to ask for her name before. Then, she realized, that maybe no one ever had.

 

“Yes, your name. Unless bounty hunters don’t have one of those.”

 

The girl’s eyes darted to hers, dark and unreadable, but Jinsoul could guess what she was thinking. “You’ve heard of the bounty.”

 

A wry chuckle escaped her. “…I have, yes.”

 

“You don’t look afraid.” 

 

This time, it was Jinsoul who looked away. “Being afraid won’t save my life. I’d rather accept it.” She looked down at her hands, all soft skin and delicate bones. Breakable. “I’ve never been a fighter, and I’m tired of running.”

 

The silence that fell over them was softer this time, gentler. “Crimson Talon, Kim Lip, Jungeun.” The girl looked up at her, and Jinsoul saw something resolute in her gaze. “I prefer Jungeun.”

 

“Jungeun,” she repeated, tasting it on her lips. She smiled. “I think I prefer it, too.”

 

***

 

Sooyoung wanted her head on a spike, and Jinsoul didn’t think there would be anything left for the Buried to take once she was done with her.

 

“Is this some kind of sick joke?”

 

“I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, I’m not exactly in the mood for jokes,” Jinsoul said, shifting the phone from one ear to the other. “I’m surprised you’re awake.”

 

Sooyoung scoffed, harsh over the phone’s speaker. “So am I. But you only call me when something goes wrong. Of course, I picked up.” Her voice trailed off into an almost sleepy murmur, but Jinsoul knew it was the embarrassment of displaying her emotions that softened it.

 

“What your employees would think if they heard you now,” Jinsoul teased.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Sooyoung ruled her club with an iron fist, and Jinsoul knew that outside of their relationship, the woman was notorious as a goddess with a heart of stone. She was friendly enough to guests and dangerously enticing to clients, but she cut people with her wicked tongue and her gaze was sharp enough to pierce anyone into submission. Jinsoul knew that she only did it to protect what little softness she had left. Sometimes she wondered if that softness was her.

 

Sooyoung cleared her throat. “So, some dude and a girl crashed through your window. Which is on top of a twenty story building. Fine. Then what happened?”

 

“They fought, I hid behind the counter, she killed the man and then told me she wasn’t going to hurt me so I should come out. She fainted because she got cut, I tried to help her but then her strange suit healed her instead. Oh, and she made the dead man’s body disappear.” Jinsoul picked off a piece of lint stubbornly clinging onto her sweater.

 

“…Why didn’t you tell me you’re writing a novel? You know I would support you.”

 

Jinsoul fought the urge to roll her eyes. “If you weren’t going to believe me, why did you bother to ask me about it?”

 

“Oh, yeah, because if we switched places you wouldn’t have hung up on me ten minutes ago.”

 

Well, Jinsoul couldn’t argue that. Honestly, she would have hung up on her three words in and gone on with her day. “It’s true, though. Would you like me to send you a selfie with her?”

 

“A selfie? What are you—” For a second, there was nothing but breathing. Then, “No. No, you can’t be serious.”

 

“I’m always serious.”

 

“She’s still in your house. You made friends with her.”

 

“Well, not quite friends, yet.”

 

“You can’t make friends with normal people,” Sooyoung said, her voice deceptively calm. The deep intake of breath should have warned her. “But you can make friends with your god damn bounty hunter?” 

 

Jinsoul winced and jerked the phone away. It was a dirty trick, but she supposed she deserved it. After all, even she knew that her decision balanced somewhere between stupid and downright suicidal, admittedly leaning more towards the latter end. 

 

“I don’t think she’s a bounty hunter, and even if she is, she’s not a very good one.”

 

Sooyoung’s laugh sounded borderline hysterical, and Jinsol wondered if she should be worried. “Right, because literally flying through your window and killing a trained bounty hunter totally tells me she’s just a normal person. Are you seriously trying to convince me that she’s harmless or something?”

 

Jinsoul glanced through the gap between her bedroom door and watched as Jungeun scrubbed at one of the larger bloodstains on the floor. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out from the corner of her lips as she shifted her position to scrub even harder. It seemed to have worked because Jinsoul caught a brief look of satisfaction on her face. Cute.

 

“Well, she’s doing the housework for me at the moment, so maybe.”

 

There was a brief silence and Jinsoul knew what was coming. Sooyoung didn’t disappoint. “You know what? Die.”

 

The call ended. Sooyoung said these things but never meant them, and Jinsoul knew that the woman would show up at her door in the next hour or so with a glare and a light punch to the shoulder prepared as punishment for annoying her. She’d always had a much shorter fuse than Jinsoul did and their quarrels usually resulted in Sooyoung cussing her out and Jinsoul laughing at the clever ways she managed to insult her.

 

A scream pierced through the air that was quickly cut off, followed by a dull thump. Jinsoul froze for a mere second before she sprang from her bed and rushed to the living room. Was there another bounty hunter? Already? If it was another bounty hunter, running out of her bedroom was a phenomenally stupid idea, but it was too late now. How were they getting in? Her apartment building didn’t allow anyone to enter the premises without a guest code. The security was top notch. Was it Sooyoung?

 

Jungeun had someone pinned to the front door, her knife poised to sink into the vulnerable flesh of the person’s neck at a moment’s notice. The person was quite obviously not Sooyoung or even female. The smell of expensive cologne was pungent in the air and Jinsoul was beginning to think that this intruder wasn’t really an intruder at all. 

 

For one, the person looked a bit too…well, out of shape to be a bounty hunter or an assassin, and for another, Jinsoul could see the top of a gray, balding head peeking over Jungeun’s tense form. The girl turned at the sound of Jinsoul’s footsteps, her expression emotionless in the way that Jinsoul was starting to realize was her default when facing an adversary. Then, she saw the intruder’s face. Oh. Crap. 

 

“Hello, Mr. Lee. Are you here for the inspection?”

 

Well, she could stand to lose the apartment.


End file.
